THE SCIENTIST
by marylouleach
Summary: Sherlock is a scientist who lost his best friend. so he created a portal that leads to other parallel dimensions, he's on a hunt to find a John willing to come back with him. The scientist neglected to factor in his own counterpart's willingness to let their John go so easily"He's dead. Your John Watson is dead. And now you've come to take mine. Well you are a bit optimistic." AU
1. Chapter 1 searching

_**As always read at your own risk not beta'd. Oh, the idea came from a super mega ultra bad A** fic i read by**__** Hekate1308,**_

_**her Story: Into the Living Sea of Waking Dreams was soooo inspirational, and I thought wow what if... So here it goes...let the angsty angst begin. :) AU no slashes ;)  
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_**Chapter 1. Searching**_

"Sherlock. This is too dangerous." The scientist's assistant crossed her arms over her chest, the white of her lab coat perfect clean and crisp.

"I have to try." The dark haired scientist snapped irritably.

"No, no you don't. Just let this go. He's gone."

"He might have died here in this world but there are plenty of others that have no use for him. What if he's just sitting somewhere contemplating suicide or worse what if he's injured? "

"How would you be able to tell in these worlds? How could you sort it out? What happens if you go and take someone who's well established in a timeline. They have purpose and family. What if he is already with you, are you willing to kidnap a man from his world and life, just to satisfy your own-"

"Shut up Clara, you know nothing. It's my fault he's dead. Of course I'll research and gather data before I press forward. I would never take someone unwillingly. Besides the stipulations I programmed into the machine will only take me to timelines where John will cease to live. That is fair enough, after all he wont have a future so what would it hurt?"

"Sherlock, listen this is insane."

"You sound like my fat git of a brother. "

"Well perhaps he has a good point." Doctor Farady was looking uneasily at the machine.

"Oh, shut up! It's his fault John is dead. If he wouldn't have sent him out on that damn mission. "

"John was an agent Sherlock that's what he did. How was Mycroft to know the intel was compromised. How would he know that there was someone leaking information? Anyway he saved your life, and to him the price of his own was worth it."

"It's his Job to know! And what was my life? I was fine. They would have eventually shot me. I can live with that." Sherlock hissed.

"John, volunteered for the mission. He couldn't be told no. You'd known him long enough. He's an unstoppable force. And what will his return have on everyone else? His wife and children? His sister-" The young woman with the green eyes shook her head. "He's been gone almost a year Sherlock, they are starting to move on."

"Oh, you call Mary wearing all black and refusing to leave the house moving on. How about Hamish and Olivia? Hamish skips school and Livy isn't eating or speaking. And how's your wife? Oh, I'm sorry Ex wife? Still drinking herself into oblivion?"

"That was low Sherlock, even for you. And of course Harry is taking it hard, I mean she was there-she was there and it was her-"

" She's an idiot. Now you can do what you've promised to do or you can stay out of my way."

"Fine. But you have to see the moral and ethical implications. Not just that it's wrong but would this be what John wants?"

The tall dark haired scientist had his back to Clara, she could see her words affected him, the way his shoulders stiffened.

"Clara, I have to try." His voice low but Clara caught the emotion behind that reply.

"No one blames you Sherlock. No one blames you or Mycroft or Harry. It was an awful thing. It's life. That is what life is, endless cycles of birth and death. Exits and entrances, love and loss. It's all life. This isn't a fair balance to that. Mary and John both knew what risks he would be taking in his job. It doesn't soften the blow any less. But everyone heals in time." Clara wanted to see John again just as much as everyone else but the dead should be allowed to rest in peace. She felt uneasy about this. "Does Mycroft know-"

"How else do you think I was granted the government funding? And he is in no position right now to stop me. He after all he thought I couldn't do it. He said as much to my face."

Clara gave in, she'd tried, god she tried. The lab had a cold feel to it, the Portal Magnifier hummed ominously in the middle of the room. Several thick cables lead away from the Dalek shaped stand, at the top it held an non reflective oval mirror, one could stand in front of this mirror made of glass and metal but there would be no reflection of the person.

It wasn't just any mirror, this is what created and projected the Portal or Portals. Sherlock wore what looked like a common digital wrist watch, but this too wasn't as it seemed. The watch was tied to the machine; it could open up portals that lead home or into another dimension. Another time where people could be alive or dead, good or bad the possibilities were endless.

All and all this was dangerous. She handed him his special mobile, it in theory was a trans-dimensional way of communication. Somehow Clara thought that they'd be doing less communicating or even texting. Once the genius Scientist got going he lost track of time.

"Alright Clara I will set the machine on auto, I'll be able to activate it from wherever I am with the watch or even the mobile. Don't contact me unless it's an emergency. "

"Right. Just be careful Sir."

The Doctor then started to punch a series of equations and finally ending with the red on switch. The hum of the machine grew, the air tasted of salt and copper. This made Clara think of blood almost immediately, and her stomach turned. This was not a good idea, it all felt so wrong.

Sherlock waited for the mirror 's oval surface to became fluid, and finally a light shot from it's center out behind it like a spot light, and the scientist removed his white lab coat.

He held the image of John in his head, this was the idea, he would find him. It wasn't time travel, he'd tried and failed too many times, that's how he stumbled on the dimensional machine. The blue light became brighter the closer he came to it, reaching in with a hand he could feel cold like testing the waters of a swimming pool. In fact it was a liquid like feeling, without a look back he stepped in.

Clara watched the machine shut down, and the Doctor was gone. "good luck idiot." She sighed, receiving a text almost immediately.

"I don't believe in luck. Don't wait around for me. Just lock the lab."

"Where are you?" she texted back.

"London." Was his reply, Clara sighed heavily and did exactly as she was told.


	2. Chapter 2 DEDUCTIONS AND CHALLANGES

**_CHAPTER 2. DEDUCTIONS AND CHALLANGES _**

Doctor Holmes found himself standing in an alley, definitely London, what part was still a question. Switching the GPS on his phone he found himself near Baker Street. Somehow this version of Baker Street was off, he couldn't quiet explain it. After all he had flatshared during UNI with John, and several years after until the ex army Captain met Mary and the two were married. Sherlock frowned, recalling how he'd introduced the two almost by accident.

Mary had loved John and treated Sherlock like a brother. The woman had a sunny disposition so painfully optimistic like John. This is why it nearly killed Sherlock to see her in the state she was in. Mourning a man that would never come home, a father that would never raise his children and a friend that would never lecture Sherlock on manners and edict.

"Oi! Sherlock? What the hell-Where is your coat!" Before Sherlock could reply the familiar blond was pulling him towards 221B, the door wasn't the same bright blue but it was home. "It's not exactly warm weather during the spring; seriously I don't know what you're thinking." John was carrying several bags of groceries.

"Let me help you." Sherlock barely managed his voice.

"That's it, you are definitely ill. You never offer to carry things." John shook his head disapprovingly, pushing the door open the directed Sherlock to go up the stairs first. Sherlock did as he was told, taking in the familiar but strange surroundings.

He took his keys out but John pushed open the door giving him another odd look. "It's not locked. Sherlock go sit down and I'll make you some tea." John quickly made his way across the flat.

This Sherlock wondered about the other Sherlock, obviously he and John were close. The scientist tried to search the room for anything that would give him a hint at just who he was in this reality.

He heard rustling around in the kitchen the sound of a kettle, yes John was fond of his tea.

When the retired Army Captain returned however he wasn't holding a mug of steaming tea but his Browning.

"Alright. Out with it. Who the hell are you?"

"John?" Sherlock tried to take a step forward.

"No, you stay right where you are. Hands up now."

"John what's your problem? Have you hit your head?" Sherlock could read the cold blue eyes. The man had always kept his Browning on hand. His hands were remarkably steady and of course his aim would be perfect.

"Stop! Don't talk. " John neared checking Sherlock's dark suit pockets, he found the mobile but said nothing just tossing it on the chair behind him. "Now, you can talk. Tell me why the hell you look like this. And what have you done to the real Sherlock? If he's in any way harmed God help me you'll wish I only shot you dead."

"John, I am Sherlock. Look at me. We've known each other for years. I know you have a sister, Harry."

"Anyone could have that information."

"You like honey in your tea. Jam on your toast. And on nights you can't sleep you like to watch crap telly. However when you're home ill you'll watch a Doctor Who marathon. The ninth doctor was your favorite. You liked his style. And his companion. You thought the tenth doctor was a bit too pretty and the eleventh too whimsical." John clicked the safety to off.

"Fine, you were an army Captain, until you took a hit to the shoulder. You dream about the war it's what keeps you up. You're excellent at chemistry although you let me do all the scientific explaining. You hate to kill and would rather shoot to injure or knock the assailant out. Your father was an abusive drunk and when Harry turned eighteen she came to collect you. Your mother died of cancer before you were three, so you don't remember her." Sherlock hoped that this back story was similar to his John's.

"Fine, so you know a bit about me. Except you're wrong. My sister is a drunk and she never came back for me. I'll say it again, who the hell are you?"

Sherlock wondered just how skilled **_this_** John was with a weapon. He calculated the set of disarming moves that **_his_** John Watson had taught him.

"John! Lestrade is an absolute idiot! He's truly out done himself-" Doctor Holmes flinched as a figure in a dark coat and blue scarf swept past him. So this was who he was, a man in a Bellstaff coat and disheveled curls? Well no wonder John didn't believe he was who he said. He probably knew right away, clever as always. And once more Sherlock underestimated his dearest friend.

"Sherlock." John kept his gun trained on the imposter.

"Can you believe he actually questioned my deductions over something that Anderson found on the scene? It was insulting." Sherlock wasn't paying his flat mate any attention, instead he sighed heavily. "Well case is solved John how about Thai tonight –Oh." Sherlock froze, he neared the man in a black suit, almost similar to the one he was wearing, a black suit and purple shirt, his hair was straight and cut neatly. His eyes were staring back at him in a similar deductive expression.

"John put your weapon down. He's a cousin." Doctor Holmes realized suddenly that that Sherlock was lying, but he would play along.

"He said he was you." The Army Captain sighed exasperated.

"Did he now?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed over the pale man with gray eyes.

"It was a joke. I didn't think your friend here would take it so seriously. " Doctor Holmes continued to watch his double with a morbid fascination.

"John is a man of action." Sherlock smiled thinly, studying the way this strangers eyes shot over Doctor Watson. There was a heavy sadness in them, and other emotions that bothered Sherlock. This man was here for John, and the consulting detective would find out why. First he would need for John to leave.

"John this is my cousin Sherringford." John lowered his weapon.

"Did you know he was stopping by?"

"Ugh, didn't I mention it this morning over toast?"

"Sherlock! I was working this morning before you got up and you had toast four days ago."

"John that's not my fault you never listen to me." The blond was moving away shaking his head. Both Holmes' watched how this John unloaded the weapon and put the bullets in a table's drawer and disappeared with the gun, grumbling about idiot flat mates.

This made the Doctor's heart tighten, and he couldn't help the fact his eyes followed John's movements until he disappeared up the stairs to his room. Neither Holmes flinched when the door slammed.

"Same temper." Doctor Holmes smiled.

"Now," Sherlock removed his coat and scarf he sat down in his chair, hands steepled under his chin and eyes cold and narrowed once more on Doctor Holmes. "I suspect you are from another timeline or what not. Judging by your appalling watch and I'm guessing that is your mobile on my table. What I want to know is why have you come here for John?"

"What-"

"Don't try to trick me we both know how I operate. Assuming you have the same deductive skills."

"I do." Doctor Holmes reached for his mobile refusing to meet the gray eyes, his own gray eyes. It was almost like staring into a mirror. Almost.

"You haven't answered my question." Sherlock leaned forward. "If you are here in any way to harm my Doctor-"

"He's a Doctor?" Doctor Holmes was amused. "What kind?"

"He was an army surgeon until he was shot in the shoulder an injury that ended his soldiering career and enough nerve damage he will never operate again. However he still is a fine GP. The best."

"Yes. Indeed. I just-well." Doctor Holmes glanced at his mobile.

"I don't like to repeat myself Mr. Holmes."

"Doctor Holmes." Sherlock's eyebrow raised. "I'm a scientist."

"Predictable."

"And you're right I'm here for your Doctor. I came to bring him back with me."

"This will be a problem." Sherlock leaned forward his voice cold and firm.

"I will give him the choice at the right moment."

"He would never-"

"What would you do if you were faced with death Sherlock Holmes? If you were offered a get out of jail free card. Then an instant family, a thriving career-life. What would you choose, better yet what would **_he_** chose?" Dr. Holmes pointed upstairs.

"You are making no sense. How could you-" Sherlock frowned then realization hit so suddenly. "He's dead. Your John Watson is dead. And now you've come to take mine." A statement and not a question, when no reply came, Sherlock Holmes consulting detective, leaned forward in his chair with a dark scowl on his face. "Well you are a bit optimistic."

"He's already dead Sherlock. I'm only giving him a way out." These words had the curly haired Holmes on his feet immediately.

"Explain!" He demanded.

"No. It is the way of things. I'll only have to wait-"

"I'll be sure to have the Government pick you up for questioning before that were to happen."

"Really you are threatening me with Mycroft! Of all people. Hilarious."

"Tell me." Sherlock held the other Holmes' gray eyes captive; a pleading in his own battled the sadness and pity in the other's.

"Look." The Doctor's shoulders dropping, his face pale, he took the mobile and handed it to the consulting detective after opening a file. "I was going to show him this to convince him. But i guess I'll show you. Then you tell me if you are willing to keep him from this choice."


	3. Chapter 3 Unanswered

**CHAPTER 3. UNANSWERED **

Sherlock froze, it was a video file, he hit play the grainy picture focused and an awful background music and raised drunken voices were making it difficult to figure out what was going on.

"Look, look it's that prat Holmes." Someone to the left of the camera laughed. The person filming wasn't paying attention instead he was trying to video several people near a table lined with red plastic cups. "Chug!" the idiots were cheering. Sherlock knew what happened at that party, he'd underestimated his tolerance for cocaine and over dosed in the bathroom. However he didn't see himself he saw a younger version of John Watson. His friend wasn't at that party, their would have been no way. "Oi Watson wins!" the blond laughed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Stamford!" He yelled to the camera man. "Stop filming and have a drink."

"Just wanted to document your exploits John." The blond shook his head, he wondered off camera from a minute but Mike only laughed. "Going to be sick? Ha this will be perfect blackmail material."

He watched John sway momentarily to closed bathroom, he opened the door, and Mike paused not going any further but Sherlock could hear John's voice.

"Oh, sorry didn't know someone was already-" then the voices were low suddenly someone was tossed out of the bathroom then another. Sherlock recognized Sebastian Wilkes and his annoying flatmate Henry. "He's just a kid!" John growled. Wilkes held a hand to his nose and like the coward he always was he ran off into the crowd threatening John with the wrath of the Wilkes family.

"Watson what was that-" Stamford went into the bathroom and there was a younger version of Sherlock slumped on the floor with a belt around his arm, a broken needle next to him.

"Those bastards were trying to-" John frowned turning to the camera "Turn it off Stamford." Before the camera went blank a very concerned John Watson started to help a young Sherlock Holmes to his feet. "Come on mate, lets get you cleaned up."

Sherlock didn't look up he continued on to the next one, it was a graduation from UNI a female was laughing now holding the camera. "John! Sherlock smile! At least look somewhat happy you've just-"

"Oh, Harry, of course we're happy. This is how Sherlock smiles." John laughed his arm around the bored looking Sherlock. He could deduce that John was trying to elevate the situation.

"Sherlock, stop being so down. I told you it's not forever, I'll be back."

"You wouldn't let Mycroft pull strings to have you placed at a military base you just want to be out there. It's an illogical decision."

"Oh, someday you'll understand. Now let's celebrate because tomorrow I leave for boot camp." The next files showed John and Sherlock embracing at some airport and Harry was sobbing, but she was sober. Interesting. Then John had been shot, but he wasn't a Doctor, he was infantry. The Doctor who tried to save him was shot and the bullet caught the already injured Watson through the shoulder. More photographs had a smiling John in a hospital bed and an unamused Sherlock at his side.

Then there was the family that John would have, Sherlock was best man at the wedding, Mycroft had even attended. Apparently this John was well loved even in that timeline. The children John would have.

"They are named Hamish and Olivia."

"That's my mother's name." Sherlock frowned.

"Yes. I know. John loved mummy as much as Mycroft and I. He was there for us when she died." Finally the last video file was of a funeral. Sherlock knew right away who it was for. He hardly recognized half the faces but there were some in the crowd. "He worked for my brother. He was an agent. Highly capable, and proficient. I was taken prisoner by some anarchist group, they wanted me to develop an undetectable bomb. I refused so they were just going to kill me. John found me of course. Harry and John entered the compound where I'd been kept, he was shot and no one said how bad, he never said-" Doctor Holmes cleared his throat. "He told Harry to go on, I was so weak from lack of food and water she nearly had to carry me out. Mycroft had his men ready and Moran was to pick us up, unfortunately the helicopter was shot down."

"Did you say Moran? As in the Colonel?" Doctor Holmes nodded and continued with his story. Harry found a truck and she hot wired it. John didn't say anything he climbed in, and asked if I was alright."Doctor Holmes didn't care that his eyes were welling up with tears this embarrassing show of emotion didn't bother him, the memory always affected him the same way. "I said yes. And before we even hit the road. He was dead. The last words I said to my best friend. Was yes."

Sherlock looked away from the funeral scene; he didn't like how it made him feel.

"It still doesn't explain why you've come."

"Well here is tomorrows headline." Dr. Holmes pulled up a file, and Sherlock read, swallowing hard he sat back down. "So you see, before he goes to his death I will ask if he wants to take on the role he was meant to play."

"Tell me how to stop it." Sherlock growled.

"It's going to happen, I can't stop it."

"Can't or wont!" Sherlock grabbed the stranger by his shirt front, his face contorted into an expression of rage.

"It would defeat the purpose of me being here! I don't know why I even told you."

"You're not leaving until you tell me how!" Sherlock gave his counterpart a hard shake.

Doctor Holmes saw the desperation it mirrored his own.

"Hey! Sherlock." John was pushing them apart. "I don't know what this is about but let's be civilized." The Doctor tried to pull his friend aside. Doctor Holmes watched John. He was speaking softly, reassuring the other Sherlock. There was a softness in him, it wouldn't work. This wasn't his John.

"You're happy here aren't you Doctor Watson?" Doctor Holmes swallowed.

"What the hell kind of question is that? Listen. I don't care who you are but perhaps you should leave."

"Why?" Doctor Holmes wanted to hear it; he wanted to hear his friend's voice more.

"Because you're upsetting my friend in his own home. Why don't you take your leave."

"And if I don't."

"Listen mate, I'm not afraid to throw you out on your skinny ass." Doctor Holmes smiled.

"I'll leave. Just answer me that one question. Are you happy here?"

"Yes. There. I said it now go. I swear you Holmes' can be so-"

"Sherlock." Doctor Holmes took his phone from his doppelganger. " Goodbye. And John. It was a pleasure to meet you again. I'll be seeing you." He smiled sadly leaving the detective and his Doctor in silence.

"What the hell was that about?" Sherlock didn't reply. John only shrugged. "Well, lets go get some Thai. I'm starving."

Sherlock picked up his coat and mulled over his twins words.

Have Italian tonight, the Thai will only give you more than heartburn . " Sherlock nodded his face pale. The man left John and Sherlock in silence.

"What the hell was his problem?" John frowned. "Sherlock you alright?" The consulting detective nodded. He shakily took his mobile out and sent a text to Lestrade.

"Robbery in progress Singh's Thai restaurant."

"Not my division." Sherlock smiled knowing the DI would see to it.

"Italian it is tonight John my treat."

"They never make you pay."

"Exactly." Sherlock had a spring in his step as the two descended the stairs, neither caught sight of the strange Holmes disappearing into a liquid blue light in the alley.

Dr. Holmes found himself in another time, not an alley this time, but in front of an invalid home.


	4. Chapter 4 WHAT IF

Doctor Holmes checked his mobile and the time, he arrived at noon on a Friday. Checking the information in his phone he didn't have very long to find John. Stepping out from the alley Sherlock was caught off guard when two very strong men in black suits grabbed hold of his arms and forced him into the back of sleek black car.

"Hey! Unhand me!" Sherlock struggled but it was no use, he was already sprawled in the back seat.

"Mr. Holmes please calm yourself, we are going to visit your brother."

"Mycroft?" Sherlock sat up quickly.

"That would be the one." The driver replied coolly, "Please buckle up." The car's tires squealed and then slammed on its breaks causing the Doctor to hit the seat in front of him. The driver honked at a man in a cane crossing the road, the man only shook his fist and his blond head. Sherlock tried to get a better view but the car was already speeding off.

"Wait! There's been a mix up, I'm not Sherlock Holmes-I mean I am but I'm not. Dammit, let me out you fool I have work to do! It's important! I don't have much time! It's a small window of opportunity that's rapidly closing."

"Sir, I suggest you sit back and buckle up." Doctor Holmes glared at the driver through the rear view mirror.

He needed to get out of here, but apparently in this reality Mycroft was still the British Government and kidnapped his brother at will.

The car came to a stop outside of the Diogenes club, Sherlock didn't hold back the eye roll. Somethings no matter what the dimension or parallel universe just didn't change.

The driver opened the door for him, Sherlock sneered at the offered hand, but followed obediently.

Mycroft was sitting at his desk, surrounded by idiot agents all vying for his signature or attention. Again, this wasn't so much an unfamiliar sight, however the rediculious mustache that Mycroft wore was another story.

Sherlock attempted to keep himself from laughing at the ginger strip that curved around Mycroft's pursed lips.

"What's this?" Mycroft growled standing he waved his people away.

"Sir, as you wished we found your brother. He gave us a bit of a chase but we found him" the driver was stuttering and nervous.

"Well that's great but where the bloody hell is he?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow, his brother never swore.

"Sir? He's right here."

"That's not my brother." Mycroft came around the desk, "Everyone in the room out."

Just like that the handful of Mycroft's minions scattered like rats off a sinking ship. Well this Mycroft was a bit of a change, Dr. Holmes wondered if it were for the better or worse. Cold grey eyes scanned him from head to toe.

"You have made an interesting attempt to look like Sherlock but you are not him. A close second but still not the real thing."

"I assure you I am not your brother, I was just an innocent bystander on my way to visit an old friend when-"

"Why would you feel the need to lie to me? And how would you know that Sherlock was my brother." Mycroft narrowed his eyes, "Oh, I believe half of what your saying. Still you are here, a few blocks from where my brother was last seen and wearing a face so close-"

"I assure you Mycroft it's a coincidence I am not your brother and I would like to be on my way. If you'll excuse me."

"Make a move towards that door and before you can step out into the corridor one of my men will have put a bullet in your head-"

"Mycroft this is an interesting side of you. And your mustache is rather amusing." The British Government continued to silently scrutinize the Doctor Holmes. After ten minutes of uncomfortable silence Sherlock threw his hands up in the air and sunk down into one of Mycroft's leather chairs.

"Alright fine. Have it your way, what do you want? You want to know why I look so much like whatever your brother looks like. Well because I am him. Next question, is this a trap? No, it's not. I could careless about whatever back room deals you have boiling. Could care less about politics. Next, what do I want from you? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I never want anything from you, it always comes with attachments. I wonder brother do you manage to keep your hands clean just as clean here, as my brother does where I am from?"

"And you are from?"

"London."

"I believe you and at the same time disbelieve you."  
"Ah, well at least we still have that."

Mycroft shook his head, "There is something-"

"Yeah, yeah, blah blah. Always so overly paranoid. Listen you fat idiot, I'm not here for you or your brother. I'm here for myself. And you are wasting my time!"

"Who are you, you say you're my brother but you aren't? My brother is a drug addict, who I've been trying to save and put in rehab. If you are with Moriarty and Moran-"

"Moran? As in Sebastian Moran?" There it was again, Moran's name, interesting how some things remained true.

"Yes, the Colonel, the one who is in league with Moriarty, the sniper that's out to kill my brother!" Mycroft growled starting forward, his face blotchy. Sherlock was amazed at the fury and emotion that registered on his brother's usually stoic face.

"Why?"

"To hurt me." Mycroft ran a hand over his face, his hair was ruffled and tie askew, Sherlock could see the tension of the past couple years. This Mycroft had seen too much, had worried and searched for his brother. Would his Mycroft had done the same? No, Mycroft Holmes did not worry, he cared about the game he was playing, the power plays the behind the scenes puppetry.

"I assure you I am not with your enemies. I'm here looking for someone. Look, believe me or not brother mine I could careless. My name is Doctor Sherlock Holmes, I come from a parallel universe and I am searching for a man, a friend."

"This friend? What is his name?" Mycroft didn't blink hearing the parallel universe part, he was instead pouring himself some scotch.

"You don't doubt me?"

"The evidence is clear. Obviously you're my brother from another timeline or universe. I know of a Doctor Faraday that has been working at Baskerville trying to construct a machine to do just as you say. Open doors, or portals. And leave it to a Holmes to be the first to succeed in unlocking the mysteries of such a device before any other. What I want to know is why you have made the decision to come here?"

"Like I said. A friend." Mycroft's eyebrow rose and Sherlock could hear John's voice in the back of his head sigh irritably.

"We aren't a couple." Sherlock snapped.

"And I assume that I already know about this little experiment?"

"You funded it." Sherlock snapped. "It was the least you could do."

"You blame me for losing this friend."

"I don't have the time to discuss this with you-"

"Whats the importance of time? How does it factor in with such a machine at your beck and call?"

"I just have a small window of opportunity. One that allows for me to move freely and recover what I've lost."

"You've lost this friend. So you are here to take him from our universe to yours? That sounds illogical what use is he?"

"He is my friend. I owe him. He saved my life."

"At the risk of his own?" Mycroft glanced over this version of his brother, this stranger and yet not. "Sounds like an idiot."

"Don't you dare speak ill of John Watson!" Sherlock was on his feet. "He was an honorable man!"

"He's friends with a drug addict, how honorable can he be?" Sherlock felt his fists ball at his side, Mycroft only continued to search the Doctor's face for something.

"I am no longer an addict, though other versions of me cant say the same. This one you see before you did not go down that path."

"Because of this friend?"

"Yes, I don't understand it, so I don't expect you to either. John and I met in UNI, he found me in the bathroom at a party and took me to the hospital. He must have thought I was some dumb kid and felt sorry for me. At least that's what I thought at first but-"

"But?" Mycroft took a small drink from his tumbler.

"But he's always been there. After that first week no matter how annoying I found him how mean I spoke to him he just never gave up. After UNI he joined the army, went to work for you and then I was kidnapped-" Mycroft's eyes narrowed his jaw clinched.

"By who?"

"Some terrorist group."

"He found you though?"

"Yes, he worked for you after leaving the army, he worked for you and you manipulated him into looking for me. He saved me at the risk of his own." Sherlock refused to let this Mycroft see his emotion, he turned away checking his watch.

"He died to save you? Then he_ was_ your friend? Or a fool." This wasn't meant for an answer, Mycroft was thinking out loud another unfamiliar quirk. "You can't have him."

"What?"

"If you say this John Watson-" Mycroft was tapping into his phone's keys, an odd thing to see. Mycroft after all hated texting, this one was comfortable texting quickly his eyes not meeting the Doctor's. "Formally of the RAMC injured in the line of duty, ah, a soldier's bravery. Just another word for stupid-"

Sherlock moved towards his brother with ever intention of punching him but this Mycroft was an experienced fighter, he caught the fist that swung in his direction, caught it and continued to read the information off of his touch screen phone, unfazed he pushed the tall thin Doctor from him.

"as I was saying before you had your little tantrum. Doctor John H. Watson a Captain in the RAMC. Currently residing at the Invalid home you were found in front of. "

"What the hell are you doing?" Sherlock straightened his suit.

"If you say this man is your savior, perhaps the savior in other parallel timelines, then-"

"You're hoping he'll save your brother? They don't even meet in this one, the man will never meet your brother. He wasn't meant to." Sherlock growled, starting to pace in frustration. He refused to fail again, not this time.

"Ah, yes, well sentiment isn't my strongest point but what can I say. Such a man would be a great choice of companion, a soldier and a doctor, he would come in handy."

"Sentiment Mycroft? It doesn't suit you."

"And I can tell from your expression you are just as ill suited for it as well. You've allowed it to blur your vision and cloud your goal. Had you been thinking you would have never given away your plans to someone like me."

Sherlock hated when his brother was right, this Mycroft wanted a way to save his brother. Sherlock could see the concern in Mycroft's gray eyes, in his pursed lips,and a sad smile creased Sherlock's own mouth as he dealt the game winning blow.

"Your brother is dead already. It's too late. That meeting is impossible." Mycroft examined the younger Holmes' face for any sign of deceit.

"How?" Sherlock had researched his counterpart out of curiosity mostly but mainly he wanted to know what kind of friend he was to John, no matter what the incarnation. "It doesn't matter Mycroft you and I cant stop it. No one can."


	5. Chapter 5 CROSSED PATHS

John made his way across the darkened street his leg ached but he ignored it. He had spent the better part of the day wondering around London. Almost being hit by that idiot madman in the black car near the invalid home made him decide on a continued aimless walk instead of returning home.

He would return to the depressing room, take his browning from his coat pocket and end the uselessness that he had become. For now, he could find a nice spot to think or dwell and feel sorry for himself.

Three figures were passing the bench John had plopped down onto, the three men didn't give him a second glance; who would give a disabled veteran any notice?

Something he observed immediately was the two men were at least six inches shorter than the one in the middle. Both short mean wore similar black jackets and slacks like an government agent or something. Even in the dimming light of the park lamps he could make out their identical hair cuts. Who wore sun glasses at night?

The man in the long dark coat in the middle wasn't really standing, in fact his feet were dragging, as if he were drunk or drugged. His dark curls bouncing around his face, right away John noted the man's inability to hold his head up. Then the lamp light caught the glare of something shiny and metal, a gun pressed to the dark haired man's back.

John drew out his mobile the reception was awful and it was nearly dead, so the ex army captain followed the three, his browning clutched in his hand.

"Here's a good as any place. Lets get this over with."

"I thought Moriarty wanted him brought back to the warehouse."

"I'm not taking the chance of crossing under big brother's nose. Those camera's are everywhere. No we do it and we do it now. Let em find the body. We can tell the boss the kid tried to run so we shot him in the struggle. We still get paid and the deed is done."

John swore under his breath these bastards were going to kill the younger man. Did he owe them money? Before John could put more thought into it several things happened, the seemingly drunk young man snapped into action. He kicked out knocking a gun from the first man's hand the second assailant was quick he drew his gun and aimed at the curly haired brunette's head, the soon to be dead man put his hands up in surrender.

John acted before thinking and he put a bullet in the thugs head. The dark haired victim stumbled to his feet and John sent a swift kick to the still breathing assailant that the brunette had kicked over.

"You alright?" John approached the swaying younger man.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" the baritone voice questioned before stumbling forward, the ex army doctor caught him before he hit his knees.

"Afghanistan-"

"No hospitals. I need to get home." The baritone sounded hoarse, John steadied the taller man, very tall and too thin.

"Where's home?"

"221 Baker Street, Doctor."

"Alright. I'll look you over than if you need a Hospital, no arguments."

"Fair." The younger man leaned into the sturdy veteran who had forgotten his cane.

"So how did you know? I mean how did you know about Afghanistan?" John held the man securely around the thin waste hoping there was no internal injuries he didn't know about.

"I deduced. By the way, the name's Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes. "

"Well Sherlock Holmes, you can call me John Watson."

"Well Doctor Watson it was a fortunate thing you were out this late and in the area. Although I could have succeeded on my own."

"I could see that." John hailed a cab.

**_~0~_**

"That was amazing." John set a cup of tea in front of the bruised consulting detective. "Keep that ice pack right where it is."

Sherlock made a face and continued to hold the cold pack to his temple where a large bruise stained the side of his porcelain face. "At least no internal injuries however if you feel any tenderness in your abdomen let me know. Any nausea or dizziness, double vision-"

"Yes, yes I got it."

"Now, I think it's best to call the police about the two thugs-"

"My brother's men would have already taken care of it, if not then the bumbling assassins would be taken into hand with their organization. Besides best get the powder burns off your hands."

"What makes you-" John shrugged. "I wont even ask. So what does your brother do exactly you said something in the cab about being a government employee?"

"No John, the pompous git **_is_** the British Government."

"Right. Alright. You've obviously hit your head rather hard-"

"So it seems." A bored sounding male voice broke through their conversation.

"Mycroft. Don't you knock!"

"Not when I have a key." The man in the gray suit and ginger mustache waved the key around in his hand. His gray eyes narrowed on the blond Doctor.

"Doctor John Hamish Watson it's an honor." Mycroft's eyes were piercing. "I did think you would be taller. I hadn't expected you to look so ordinary."

"Get out Mycroft." Sherlock growled standing at his full height. The older Holmes arched an eyebrow, a grin playing across his lips.

"Fine. We have things to discuss brother. Doctor, it was nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much, catch you bother later."

Mycroft turned and made his way down the stairs of 221B, things would be fine, his brother might just see reason. It was rare for his brother to show any kind of outrage at Mycroft's usual taunts towards an acquaintance.

"Well?" Doctor Holmes faced Mycroft just outside the Government's car.

"I thank you Doctor. You may have just saved my brother." Sherlock shook his head and turned angrily down the street.

"I hope you believe me when I say it was not my intention!" Sherlock waved dismissively over his shoulder ignoring the deep chuckle of his brother.

He needed to activate the portal, there was another place he could go. And this time he would not fail. He glanced up briefly at the light in the window of Baker Street. There were two figures standing near the window and the sound of violin music. Tonight John Watson would not put a gun in his mouth and kill himself and an addict would not overdose or be assassinated by some criminal syndicate.

"John where are you/" Doctor Holmes frowned checking his phone for his next destination.


	6. Chapter 6 Running in Circles

The Consulting Criminal stood in the alley eyes narrowed, the man in front of him held a browning (of all things) on him. Sherlock Holmes had wondered if this was a new game Jim had come up with, sending a hit man who looked exactly like Sherlock.

This man gripping the Browning could be Sherlock's twin, except there was something off about him. It was an odd thing to deduce ones self, this Sherlock wore his hair the same style, he even had the same sense of style when it came to suits. The gun, the Browning it was John's, Sherlock knew this because of a deep scratch caused by hitting the cement when a man tried to wrestle it from John a year ago. Yes, that was John's gun next question; how did this idiot get it?

It was easy to see the stranger, this doppelgänger wasn't holding it as steady as a trained marksmen or killer. _**Interesting.**_

"So. You broke me out of the hospital to what? Shoot me like a dog in the alley?" Sherlock refused to hold his hands up as the idiot had commanded, instead he folded his arms across his chest, the hospital gown was quite drafty and he missed his blue silk robe.

"No. The opposite. I'm offering you a new life. There next to the skip you'll find a bag with everything you need in it for your new life. Clothes and a passport-"

Sherlock kneeled down rummaging through the familiar bag, it was John's. John always kept an extra '_GO'_ bag as he called it, in the trunk of the car. Except this one had everything Sherlock needed, some dry food a few bottles of water, a throw away phone. Everything but a weapon.

"Who are you?" Sherlock stood up starting to slip on the trousers provided, with no sign of unease in front of his audience.

"A friend." The other man snapped, looking briefly over his shoulder.

"I don't have friends." Sherlock growled, it was true. The one he had considered making his friend had betrayed him. And to his brother of all people, of course everyone had accused John Watson of being more than just an ex army doctor.

Moran had been the one to introduce Captain Watson to the two Consulting Criminals. James had ignored the seemingly ordinary man at first, and Sherlock had his suspicions, but Moran claimed the Doctor had saved his life more than a few times.

Checking his back ground Sherlock found this Watson had been dishonorably discharged from the army. However it didn't fit with the doctor's personality, he thought it would alleviate the boredom he was experiencing while James was playing some game with the police with explosives.

A childish useless game. John provided an outlet, this new puzzle to solve, and James didnt appear to mind being ignored, so it seemed.

After all James had Moran the sniper, why couldn't Sherlock have a Doctor. Except every test he had put in front of John the blond passed. There were no connections to Mycroft, no secret meetings no bugs. The man had even shot someone for Sherlock. After Sherlock overdosed a miscalculation on the criminal's part, one he was sure now James had a hand in, the Doctor seemed genuinely concerned had been there to nurse him back to health.

No one had cared like that and it was somewhat unsettling. Sherlock fed John false information and the man never seemed to notice, and there were no signs it had been transmitted back to The British Government.

Then a few days ago John had come to him tried to convince him to talk to Mycroft, to hear him out. John had constructed some story that James was trying to kill him. John had been right about Moriarty, Sherlock seriously underestimated the psychopath's boredom. But the truth was, John had worked for Mycroft the whole time, undercover, he wasn't dishonorably discharged, he was still part of the army a special branch.

Sherlock had been angry but he hadn't the time to express it before Mycroft's men broke down the door and the tranq dart hit him right in the middle of the chest, right where his heart would be.

That was the last time he saw John, the traitor, and he wouldn't care if Sebastian found the blond and put a bullet in his head. Something quick and painless, still why did it bother him when he thought about the Doctor, the way his eyes had pleaded for understanding? Tricks all of it. Now this idiot here was claiming to be a friend?

"Not your friend. Idiot. John's."

That got Sherlock's attention as he buttoned his purple shirt. "What?"

"You heard me. John was the one slipping the lower doses of whatever sedative those bastards were keeping you on. He knows your brother had you there and the plan was to wait a few days, to lower your meds and brake you out of the mad house. Your brother doesn't have enough evidence to keep you for a trial, so he was illegally keeping you here. "

"You're lying this is a trick." Sherlock glanced around expecting Mycroft or his men. Then he turned his eyes on the double, this stranger had a hard expression was it anger? Jealousy?

"Is it? And I thought you were a supposed genius? Think what you want to. Just take the bag and go! Never come back here."

"Why would John-"

"He's your friend idiot. That's what friends do. They protect each other. That's why I'm here instead of him."

Sherlock slipped on his shoes, the last statement caught him off guard, he inspected his double closely. There was truth only truth there, but how did John know this man? Why did he look so much like Sherlock? There was no evidence of plastic surgery. How long had John known this man?

"Stop. It's useless. You wont get any other answers. Just do what you do best. Think about yourself and move on. Perhaps you should choose your friends more carefully, looks like this Moriarty and his pet dog almost ended you."

Sherlock stood pulling the black suit jacket on, straightening he smiled smugly "James Moriarty is nothing without me. He will get whats coming to him."

"Whatever. Have a great life Sherlock Holmes. " This stranger lowered his weapon and backed away cautiously. Sherlock watched him disappear down an alley and wondered again why the man had come in John's place. If the man was speaking the truth and there was no doubt in Sherlock's mind that the stranger had been, then John would have been very trusting to allow this man to come in his place.

Or, the man was lying and for some reason he felt the need to free Sherlock. All of it was confusing, the Consulting Criminal needed more data.

**_~0~_**

Four blocks later Doctor Holmes was sure he hadn't been followed, he moved towards the parked car he'd left with a very important package in the trunk.

It was for John's own good really, he wouldn't see reason and Sherlock had to resort to more underhanded tactics. At least this way John was safe, if the Doctor didn't come back with him he wouldn't be involved in aiding a criminal in escaping the mental hospital.

Mycroft wouldn't be able to prosecute, even better Moran and Moriarty would be too busy worrying where Sherlock had gone than to go after the good doctor.

Doctor Holmes placed the loaded Browning he'd taken off of the unsuspecting John Watson in the waistband of his trousers. He needed to check on the unconscious man, moving to unlock the trunk he lifted it slowly incase John was awake and in that case very much ready to attack.

Looking inside John was still out, the gag on his mouth tight, and his hands and legs cuffed behind him, Doctor Holmes hoped John didn't have any old injuries this would antagonize.

"So tell me Doctor, is this how friends treat friends? Enlighten me please, I'm confused. Since when is it common to tie a friend up and place them in the trunk?" Doctor Holmes swore under his breath, he reached for the gun but the damn criminal had it against his head.

"Is he alive?" The criminal growled, when Doctor Holmes didn't answer the gun pressed into his head firmly. "John?" The armed man more demanded then asked.

"He's alive. Calm down. It's not what it looks like." Doctor Holmes cursed his luck.

"oh, alright. If this isn't what it looks like. Which if you ask me it looks like you've stolen the Doctor's weapon, knocked him unconscious and tied him up to be placed in a cramped trunk. Are you working for Mycroft?" Sherlock sneered.

"No, idiot. I would never work for that pompous ass! I did this to save his life! He didn't give me a choice I had to act hastily. Don't you have a flight to catch?"

Sherlock pushed the stranger away keeping the browning on him, he demanded the keys for the cuffs and unlocked John's arms and feet. A quick hand ran over the Doctor's blond head feeling a place just near the temple, finding dried blood and a rather hard bump. This angered the Criminal, and he didn't disguise this with his posture, checking the slide and removing the safety on the gun.

"Wait!" The double snapped.

"Such a damn temper! He's alright. I was getting him out of here. He wouldn't go without making sure you were alright. He was going to go into that Hospital with that bag, he was going to break you out. And he would have." Sherlock could see this man's growing anger and there was a strange emotion behind those gray eyes.

"You two would have made it out onto the street, a few blocks down where this car was waiting then Sebastian would have taken aim from the roof and fired one single shot, and the accuracy would be perfect. John would have been hit in the chest, he would have died, bled out in the street, you would be spared. Your pathetic evil wasted life would be spared by the fact your brother's men would swarm in and take Moran out. The ambulance would be too late and once more you would have blood soaked hands. All because that idiot thinks you can be saved from Moran, from Mycroft and yourself. But we both know what kind of selfish fool you are. "

The dark haired consulting Criminal held his breath; he had imagined it all playing out. "I'm taking him far from here, Mycroft wont be able to touch him and neither will Moran. You cant follow. "

"Why not?" Sherlock didn't know where the words came from they just bubbled forward.

"Because that's just the way of it." He heard the cold words from the odd stranger.

"Who are you really? I deduce you're a doctor but not a medical one. You aren't used to holding a weapon let alone firing one. Still you look like my twin-"

"It's a long story. I have no wish to repeat. I just know we haven't' much time. Moran is still a few blocks away waiting for John to show himself, and your brother's men are swarming around the hospital. Of course an idiot could get passed them. Really you would think he screened his people a bit more thoroughly."

John started to stir, "Get out of here." The Doctor snapped his eyes focusing on the blond.

"No." Sherlock replied holding the Browning, "Back away from him. We'll be leaving. I'm taking the car. I'm sure he'll call you later or send a card-"

"Sherlock?" John sat up rolling his stiff shoulders, he looked around a hand to his head. "What the hell-am I in a trunk?" he paled looking from Sherlock to the stranger. "Great I'm seeing double." He pinched his nose.

"John it seems your friend here was trying to protect you-"

"Friend?" He narrowed his eyes on the other man. "He's not my friend. He's crazy, says he's from a parallel universe, tried to get me to go with him. Come on like I'll take candy from a stranger. Ugh, my head." John tried to climb out of the trunk ignoring how his friend was staring at the other man.

"How did you get out?" John squinted rubbing his head, "God my head."

Before Sherlock could say another word several shots rang out. Instinctively John pulled his friend down and back behind the car. "Shit! They found us." John tried to locate direction of the shots. "We have to get out of here, if that was Moran one of us would be dead, your brother's men would never dare to hit you and so it has to be a watch out for Moriarty.

John glared at Sherlock's twin who was sitting with his back to the passenger door. "I owe you a nice tap to the head ya bastard. For now looks like we are in the same boat. Anyone else armed?"

John took the weapon from Sherlock, "You are shit at aiming. I'll cover the two of you, I need you to get in the car and get it started, I'll meet you two blocks over you can pick me up-" John stopped speaking he was crouched down low and Sherlock was squatting in front of him trying to follow his words when the blond jerked the dark haired criminal to the side pushing him away taking the bullet to the shoulder. Then there was silence, a brief silence followed by more gunfire and again silence.

Sherlock didn't register any of it, the younger Holmes had pulled himself up unscathed, he turned to check for John seeing the blond's smaller form laying unmoving in the street, blood pooling under him, soaking that hate brown jumper, he blinked but didn't say anything.

"John!" Sherlock kneeled by his friend.

"You ok?" John asked causing the criminal to wince, so much blood was pouring from his friends body and the infuriating man was asking if he was ok?

"John tell me what to do, I don't know how to fix this?"

"Pressure." John choked, taking a shaking hand he placed it over his shoulder his eyes widening when Sherlock put his hands where John directed and pressed down cringing at the feel of the broken bones. "Good." He coughed. "Thanks."

Sherlock yelled for help, "Someone call an ambulance!" he knew Mycroft's men were watching, the idiots well no matter they would get a show and he would be caught again but it didn't matter. They needed to help his friend.

**_~0~_**

"Not again!" Doctor Holmes clasped his eyes shut, "Not again! Dammit John." He stood up and backed away, not caring if his idiot double was watching him with questions in his gray eyes.

"You aren't worth his life! Still every time! Every bloody time! It's madness! I cant do this anymore." The dark haired Doctor glared at his own hands, he wanted to hit something, to hit himself.

"Shut up." John grunted. "You're an idiot. Don't know who you are really. Or who" John clenched his teeth but continued "you are. But you don't know anything." John was trembling, Sherlock could see he was going into shock. "Know you are looking for someone. It's not me mate. It's not me. I don't want to-" John took a deep breath coughing then his blue eyes widened he was struggling to stay awake, he looked to Sherlock for something, and smiled. "-leave here." Exhale.

Then John Watson's eyes closed and nothing but the sirens in the distance could be heard. When the dark haired criminal turned to say something to his double he found the stranger had vanished. Several of his brother's men were surrounding him and the paramedics were pushing him aside.

Sherlock started to stand slowly several weapons trained on him he turned hearing his brother nearing. "Moran?"

"He got away." Mycroft replied clutching his umbrella, his keen eyes flashing over his brothers blood soaked hands, Sherlock looked pale and kept staring at his shaking hands.

"Save him?"

"He'll get the care he deserves and he'll be under guard until his trial."

Sherlock looked at his brother now, the cold mask of calm that he usual addressed his enemies with was back in place.

"John wont go to trial if he lives." Sherlock straightened his jacket, running his hands down the side.

"Oh?" Mycroft frowned. "Well he does have quite a few things to answer-"

"He wont. Because I'll be working with you to bring down Moriarty and Moran. For my services in consulting you the Captain's record is clean. "

"He wont ever work for the government again. He has committed an act of treason, he'll be discharged." Mycroft replied casually "Honorably." He added. "However if this is a trick-"

"Don't be boring Mycroft."

"Fine. We have a deal, why don't you escort your friend to the hospital."

"Remember Mycroft the deal is off if he dies." The British Government didn't reply he only turned to his PA and she was already making the necessary arrangements. "If James wants a game a game he will get. Until check and check mate." Sherlock scowled.

**_~o~_**

Doctor Holmes returned to the lab, cursing himself cursing his useless machine. "What use is genius if you can't save a friend!" he growled kicking at it, he threw his phone into the non reflective mirror, cracking the surface, the phone was flashing the same date, always the same Friday that he lost a friend. This only caused the scientist to lash out at the machine more, the lab was empty and lights low, he punched the dials and kicked at the Dalek like machine, picking up a metal tray he struck it over and over again, paper was flying in the empty lab, sparks and then there was an explosion, Doctor Holmes was knocked back and he heard someone calling his name but everything went black.


	7. Chapter 7 Haunt Me

Sherlock Holmes Consulting Detective moved through the halls of Baskerville glancing curiously through a few windows in the doors. He observed that the further down in the corridor the more interesting the experiments.

There was a glowing bunny that caused him pause, a smirk crossing his lips, he would definitely have to tell John later about the more medical advancements being made. The army Doctor would find such things very fascinating, perhaps Mycroft could arrange for John to have a tour, when he was well again.

Sherlock's jaw tightened, John would be well again, Mycroft had his best men on it. And John had been awake when Sherlock had come to visit, his side was bandaged and John's surgeon assured that nothing vital was damaged in the attack.

The attack was still fresh in Sherlock's mind, he and John had been arguing over the fact that Lestrade should have been called before they 'broke' into the empty house. Sherlock was so sure that the suspect had fled town and he said as much to John who took it upon himself to text the DI.

It was a good thing John had such foresight, because Sherlock had been wrong, and it nearly cost him a dear friend.

John was Sherlock's only friend, in the short time the two had together the ex army Doctor had saved his life more than a handful of times, and that wasn't mentioning the fact that Sherlock had been clean a year now. He didn't need the drugs with the constant stimulation of cases and even when that slowed, his blogger was around to make sure he didn't give into the demon of addiction.

Today Mycroft had confessed to his reason for trusting John when he trusted nobody else with Sherlock.

The British Government with his ridiculous mustache and brolly swept into the small hospital room they were keeping John in and started shouting orders. Soon John was transferred to a private room and given very expensive Doctor's.

It was startling for Mycroft to show any kind of emotion or sign of concern for anyone except the country or Sherlock. The consulting detective had been thrown, to anyone else Mycroft appeared impartial, but to Sherlock he could read the open concern, and only when the Surgeon gave a quick and efficient update on the unconscious army captain did Mycroft relax.

"What are you doing here brother?" Sherlock had demanded in his usual annoyed tone.

"Nice to see you're uninjured brother." Mycroft glanced over his brother quickly as if needing to back up this comment with visual proof.

"It was my fault." Sherlock looked over at his still unconscious friend. "There was so much blood." The Detective cringed, it had almost been fascinating in a morbid way to see such crimson staining the floor around John's motionless body and at the same time terrifying."

"I hear the suspect wasn't as lucky as our good friend here."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed on John's heart monitor, recalling just how the suspect met his end.

"No he was too lucky. I was aiming for his throat, I'd of liked to see him bleed out slowly, unlucky shot really, a shot to the head isn't exactly easy from a sitting position."

Sherlock had lost all sense of reasoning when John's body hit the floor, the man had used himself to shield Sherlock from the bullet, one that would have been the younger Holmes' end. Instead John was groaning clasping a hand to his side, in one quick moment the consulting detective was pulling the weapon from his friend's hand and fired on the startled suspect.

Sherlock couldn't concentrate when he thought John was dying, thought his friend would meet his end there on the dirty floor of some filthy house. He'd tried to keep his blogger awake, keep him talking as he waited for Lestrade and an ambulance. John's blood was everywhere, it was warm and the vessel it belonged to had become cold.

"He's going to be fine Sherlock. " Mycroft's eyes were distant "It's fascinating how fate operates."

"Mycroft you aren't making sense. This wasn't fate this was my stupid mistake. There is no such thing as fate or luck."

"Maybe." Mycroft sighed remembering that odd conversation with his brother but not his brother. "I thought so too, until-" He paused shaking his head. "It's no matter, just be sure to take care of your Doctor. He's not a toy Sherlock if he breaks it's impossible to find a replacement." Sherlock glared.

"Don't insult the man that way. He isn't a toy or a pet and I wont have you or anyone refer to him as such. Don't ever speak ill of John Watson he is an honorable man."

Mycroft couldn't help but nod having heard these words before but from his brother's doppelganger.

"What's so funny?" Sherlock moved away from his friend's side.

"You've said this to me before."

"No I haven't." Sherlock thought his brother was losing his mind.

"No, maybe not you but someone like you."

"Who?" Suddenly curious.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me." Sherlock didn't know why it was so important to know, but his brother only sighed and took a seat. He started to tell Sherlock all he knew about this alternate version of him, how the man had seemed so desperate and determined.

Sherlock looked back at John and wondered how far he would go if he'd lost his friend, how far he would go to save a friend. Today he'd killed for John without blinking, without any feelings of guilt. Sherlock thought of what his brother was saying just as his friend started to wake.

After staying with a very drugged up John until the man fell into a comfortable sleep Sherlock Holmes demanded clearance to Baskerville. He had to do something and Mycroft was quick to catch on.

**_~0~_**

Doctor Holmes woke up to yelling, he tried to blink past the pain pounding in his head, hands were roughly pulling him to his feet.

"Doctor Holmes welcome back. We were getting a little worried there." Sherlock squinted his eyes adjusting to the bright lights. A man wearing black fatigues was crouched down his calloused hands cupping the Doctor's face.

"Now we don't want to resort to violence the boss wants you in one piece. Just compliance, so about this bomb we wish you to make."

Doctor Holmes pulled his chin from the man's grasp, searching the room, he realized his hands were bound behind his back, his head throbbing.

"No, no no!" he wanted to scream pulling on his bindings, he was back at the beginning. That day John would come in and save him, there was no changing it and Sherlock thrashed against his restraints in frustration.

"Calm down Doctor Holmes, or we'll have to gag you again. Or perhaps another dip in the sink will bring you to your senses."

Sherlock ignored the man his head slumped down bruised chin touching his chest a sign of defeat. It would be soon, everything would be soon, at least he'd see his friend one last time, at least he could tell him more than just "Yes."

Maybe after Sherlock would just walk out into the spray of gunfire, just end the misery and torment. Was this his punishment? To be just out of reach of John, how many times had the man helped him and saved his life and this one time Sherlock couldn't return the favor?

How cruel that he finally got the machine to work as a time machine only for it to back fire. Perhaps fate would not allow science to disrupt what should be the normal course of action. John was meant to die here, however unfair it was. The other Sherlock's all as undeserving as Doctor Holmes got to keep their friends some even gained John as a friend when fate or destiny would have assumed otherwise.

There would be no interference for Doctor Sherlock Holmes, there would be no miracles because such things didn't exist. How could he not accept this, just accept this, why was it so hard? He closed his eyes, and in the distance he heard the haunting echo of gunfire.


	8. Chapter 8 SELF

Sherlock Holmes Consulting Detective, managed to trace the paths his so called alternate had used. Dr. Faraday was intelligent but her equations had been far off, at the rate she was working it would have taken the woman another ten years to accomplish what his alternate had already.

So it wasn't a surprise when late into the night Sherlock had solved the many obstacles and dead ends. He managed to find a significant pattern that crossed his time line as well as another, the source was easy to trace from such a signature.

Sherlock didn't understand his need to help the stranger, certainly had this been two years ago pre John, he would have used the technology for some kind of gain, something to relieve boredom. However his friend had shown him a different way of being. Solving crimes for the NSY was somewhat entertaining, even working closely with Mycroft was fun at times, if anything he was able to annoy his mustached brother at every twist and turn.

Realizing that he was meant to be dead, that John was also supposed to be dead was odd almost shocking really. Sherlock and John had done so much these last two years. The flat at 221B was home when John moved in, Mrs. Hudson would have suffered at the hands of her abusive husband, where would Lestrade be? He would have lost his life on that case of the dead Russians, the one where John had doubled back on instinct and shot a suspect that was about to shoot the DI in the street.

That was another insight, Lestrade, DI Greg Lestrade was another person that had somehow managed to become his friend. Sherlock didn't know when it happened but it had. What an odd feeling he had whenever thinking of what could have been lost if this counterpart of his hadn't been looking for what Sherlock already had, he was looking for John. He considered his friend lying in the hospital recovering, if that bullet had taken John Sherlock would be lost. Without meeting this other Sherlock he knew he could relate. So the newly revived ex addict was going to pay this stranger back somehow. He only had a bit of information that Mycroft gathered from Doctor Holmes. It was a start.

So when the portal opened, Sherlock stepped through, finding himself in front of 221B, this was the first place Doctor Holmes had gone, obviously he hadn't found what he was looking for. He used his mobile to google himself in this time, emerging from the alley he was greeted by a very familiar face.

"Oh, great not you again. Come back have you? Don't you ever wear a damn coat? Well come one. Here carry these." John handed the tall dark haired detective several heavy bags of groceries.

Sherlock followed this alternate of John, it was remarkable how similar his John and this one were. From the military cut hair to the hideous brown jumpers.

"Alright, he's probably in the same place I left him. Something about acid on exposed wounds. I don't know, but do you know how uncomfortable it is to be sent a list via text of items needed from the grocery store? I only went out to get biscuits, tea, milk and bread. He sends me a text while I'm in line mind you-"

Sherlock rolled his eyes as John continued with his rant, his limp not at all apparent, his John had a slight limp from shrapnel that lodged just above his calf. It wasn't enough for a cane, it never had been, the first night Sherlock had met John he knew the man needed a dose of adrenaline.

This John was unlocking the door, "duct tape, petroleum Jelly and what the hell would he need with a damn soup ladle? I thought we had enough here, apparently it wasn't good enough. Do you know the odd looks I got, and today of all days the self check out was down. "

Sherlock could only imagine John's embarrassment, his John had been banned from the Tesco due to the fact he took a hammer, one he would have purchased had the machine not been so touchy, and beat the chip and pin mercilessly.

"Sherlock! You're cousins back." John called, "I'll put some tea on, you two be nice." The Doctor took the bags from the surprised time traveler and went to the kitchen.

"My cousin?" Sherlock frowned then looked up from his microscope, his face turning into a scowl. "John." Sherlock was standing up slowly.

"What is it now your majesty."

"John there's an important item I forgot to tell you to bring."

"Are you bloody serious-" John held the kettle in his hands,

"Yes, uh, I need rubbing alcohol."

"I have some in my bag." John sighed.

"I used it already I need more."

"You-we've gone over personal space Sherlock."

"Yes well I asked you but you didn't object so I thought-"

"When did you ask?" John huffed.

"This morning, at noon-"

"Dammit! I was at work till an hour ago!"

"Oh, well it's not my fault you couldn't hear me."

John threw his hands in the air, "I'll be back." He shook his head grabbing his black jacket and house keys. "Nice seeing you again Sherringford. Please try not upset him too much, my offer still stands, I wont hesitate to throw you out."

The Doctor was swearing under his breath slamming the door behind him. The time traveler turned to meet his alternate self only to come face to face with a gun. John's gun, the browning he knew very well.

"Why have you come back?"

"Sherringford? Interesting. I do have a distant cousin by this name." Sherlock didn't blink at the gun.

"Answer the question Doctor Holmes, why are you back? I've already warned you, John is quite content here-"

"Ah, alright so he's been here. I was right."

Sherlock rolled his eyes lowering the gun, "For the sake of sanity, I'm going to call you Sherringford. Seeing how my name's already taken."

"Fair enough Sherlock. Mind if I sit."

"If you don't mind me ignoring you." Sherlock returned to his experiment.

"I need to know what Doctor Holmes said to you when he was here?"

"Why? Are you on the same mission?" Sherlock adjusted his glass slide.

"No, just the opposite. I thought I'd return the favor." Sherringford watched curiously as Sherlock started to gather another slide.

"Return the favor?" Sherlock humphed at this.

"So I take it your John said no."

"My brother intervened before the Doctor could even speak to John. He set off a course of events I believe he has no idea he created. Doctor Watson and I were never meant to meet, we would have both died that day."

This caused the man at the microscope to pause. "Except he did show up and it changed my destiny if you would."

Sherlock tried to imagine life without John, the room would be colder and emptier.

"He only showed me the video feeds on his mobile. A college party, a graduation, a wedding and a funeral."

"I know he said that the Doctor-I mean that Mr. Watson would die on a Friday he didn't say when. I can only assume between one pm and seven. That's all I have."

"Oh" the man at the microscope sighed "There was that other thing, a matter of a helicopter and a colonel Moran."

"Moran?" Sherringford scowled.

Sherlock turned to the alternate of himself "Yes! Odd how in that timeline he was working for Mycroft, when the Moran I knew tried to kill John. The bastard also worked for Moriarty."

Sherringford nodded "In my time as well."

When Doctor Watson returned with the bottle of rubbing alcohol he found the flat empty, rolling his eyes he slammed the bottle of alcohol onto the table grumbling about inconsiderate flatmates. He went to make himself some tea only to find the kettle on and about ready to go off.

"Well maybe now so inconsiderate." The Doctor pulled a mug down with a smile.

**_~0~_**

"So, you two have come here to?" The ex consulting criminal glared at the two alternates of himself. The glow of the fire kept the room rather cozy and the consulting criminal rather the ex consulting criminal was allowing his flatmate his sleep. After the day of chasing criminals the man deserved it, another case closed for MI6. Mycroft should be happy, and perhaps leave him alone for at lease a few days, especially since he was trying to follow Moriarty's trail. The man was just taunting Sherlock now.

"We just want to know what the Doctor said to you before he left. Obviously Doctor Watson didn't go with him-" The Sherlock in the Bellstaff coat was speaking to him as if to a child. Holmes hated condescension, it reminded him of his fat git of a brother.

"Doctor Watson?" he raised an eyebrow, interesting this man's version of John was a Doctor. Hmm, that could be useful, on some level perhaps, but in the business of catching criminals the consulting detective would rather have a killer on his side than a healer. Logical.

"He obviously doesn't know what the hell we are going on about." Sherringford snapped, pulling the jacket of his suit straight, he began to pace the oddly clean flat of 221B. "We haven't much time, if time can be relevant."

"Time?" John yawned coming down the stairs, three sets of gray eyes were now concentrating on him. "Do you think the three of you could keep it down it's been a rough week."

The ex consulting criminal caught how both his alternates were observing John, obviously comparing him to the man they knew. Well his John was better, he was loyal, an excellent marksmen, and clever.

He could deduce that the man in the Bellstaff coat wasn't pleased with what he saw, perhaps his John Watson the doctor, was softer. It was a wonder the man was still alive. And the other one in the respectable black suit with the purple button up shirt beneath, rolled his eyes and looked away. This caused Sherlock to bristle, who did they think they were?

"I apologize John, these men were just leaving."

"Were we?" the one in the Bellstaff coat glared at the ex criminal.

John was on alert and approached his friend quickly, his hand drawing a weapon.

"I believe my friend said you were." John glared at the two very hauntingly similar faces. "Relatives?" John frowned.

"Hardly" All three replied, rolling there eyes in the same fashion. John sighed heavily.

"Alright, well I have a feeling I don't want to know. Who do I shoot?" he turned to his friend in the black suit and blue shirt.

"Neanderthal." Sherringford growled starting to pace, John focused on the man but the ex criminal Sherlock put a hand on his good shoulder.

"It's alright John. We aren't going to shoot anyone."

"Yes, we should go. Obviously the Doctor had nothing of importance to discuss with you or your companion." The man in the Bellstaff rose, readjusting his blue scarf.

"He's a criminal Holmes of course we would have nothing to say-" The man in the Bellstaff sighed, Sherlock knew this alternate could deduce decently but that wasn't an easy deduction to make. He had tried to distance himself from that life he once led.

"Ex criminal." John snapped raising his side arm back up.

"John, there's no need to defend me. Like I said they are of no-"

"Well I guess it could be worse." The Sherlock in the Bellstaff sighed "He could have worked for Moriarty." This caused the other alternate to halt his pacing, all three Sherlock's stiffened at the name, and then they caught the color drain from the blond soldier's face.

Bellstaff Sherlock swore under his breath. "Well, that's a turn up."

"Great, we better leave, that's all we needed to do was reunited Moran, Moriarty and the Great criminal consultant."

Sherlock felt his hand squeeze John's good shoulder, "John, will you make some tea for our guests."

"fine." The agent turned around handing his gun to his friend. "I don't trust them."

"I'll explain later." John shrugged yawning again he headed towards the kitchen. "Wish we had a housekeeper." He mumbled.

"Now you were saying Moran? What's he got to do with this?"

Bellstaff Sherlock understood without the need for words, "Moran tried to shoot my best friend Doctor John Watson under Moriarty's orders. I'm sure Sherringford here has a similar story."

Sherringford nodded his dark head, "Yes, he nearly killed John had Mycroft's men not shown up-" His voice trailed. "However he's dead in my world as is Moriarty. You?" He asked the Bellstaff Holmes.

"Yes, but at great costs." Sherlock hated reliving the three years away from his home, friends and family.

"I have a cousin named Sherringford, he's an ass." The ex criminal said sitting back in his comfortable chair.

"We know." The other two replied.

"Fine. I'll help. John is an excellent marksmen and a soldier, I'm sure he'd love to have a go at Moran. They have unfinished business."

"It might not be safe for-"

"Look." Sherlock the ex criminal leaned forward, glaring at the man in the bellstaff than the other idiot in the dark suit, both like him ex addicts. "John is a soldier, he's been trained by the best, and I would trust no one else to have my back. Your Watson's might not be someone you'd haul into a firefight but John is a gun I never leave home without."

"Doctor John Watson is an honorable man, and I would never put his life intentionally in danger. He is a soldier and a Doctor and would never work for my brother. He's too good a man to be a government lap dog." Bellstaff Sherlock growled.

"My blogger is in the hospital." The other admitted. "He's not much use with his injuries."

"Gentlemen, let's call a truce, I'm sure your friends are highly capable in their own way but as I said, John is a good resource. It would be foolish for the two of you to turn my offer down."

"What's in it for you?" Sherringford raised an eyebrow trying to read the ex criminal. He was so much like Mycroft it was disgusting, that same cool mask and smug lipped expression.

"I would like a little knowledge of how you defeated your Moriarty's perhaps some of the information could help me locate the spider and finally pay him back."

"Tea?" John held a tray of three steaming mugs.

"Thank you John, as always excellent tea. John we're going to be needing some supplies, these three need our help."

John nodded hurrying off while the three men fell into a tense silence, when the blond returned he had a bag full of weapons. "What kind of fight are we expecting?"


	9. Chapter 9 Set Apart

_**A/N: sorry for the delay folks...morning sickness is kicking my butt...more like morning noon and night. It should pass soon...so i've been told. So here's the update.**_

* * *

Agent Watson wasn't particularly too trusting of these 'alternates', Holmes had tried to remind him it wasn't the first time he'd met one. In fact he described a wild story that had Agent Watson wondering if the younger man had fallen off the wagon and started on the drugs. However glancing around the room; as he loaded his weapons and readied his gear, he couldn't help but believe his friend.

Just a little, he tried to recall the night he'd been shot, but it was all a blur, he remembered his mission was to break Sherlock out of that mental hospital, the two could escape to the states just until things cleared. It was absurd, and probably the craziest thing the former military man had ever done but he couldn't stand the idea of his friend rotting away in some awful padded room, drooling on himself and drugged to the teeth.

No, Sherlock was a genius, he could be a great man, John had seen it in him, and dammed if he would let Mycroft Holmes Mr. British Government put a man away without the courtesy of a trial. John had been a Doctor once in the RAMC but his superiors had seen his talent and promoted him to the field. He left the medical profession behind after that, he didn't think he'd ever really have to call on it.

Not much use for a healer when you needed an assassin. And for the most part that's what John had been, a trained assassin and he was damn good at it.

Then Mycroft bloody Holmes called him into his office with a new challenge. In John's RAMC days he'd saved some hot-headed idiot a sniper, John had patched him up and carried the man out of danger. All in a day's work, really, back then John had been all noble and less jaded by the war. Mycroft wanted to use that as an in. He needed Agent Watson to play a part, and John had thought he played it well.

Little did he know the genius brother of Mycroft's had seen him coming. He had fooled Moriarty, well partly because the psychopath was too busy blowing shit up to care. And of course Colonel Moran was more blinded by the fact that John's back story fit his own. An army vet dishonorably discharged due to some time spent in military prison over illegal drug and weapons smuggling.

That sniper was an idiot, and Holmes, well Holmes kept testing him, kept him on his toes. John hardly reported back to Mycroft unless he felt the information impertinent. After years as an MI6 agent, John knew what misleading intel could do, and from the way that Sherlock liked to play, John was well aware that the man was trying to give him crap information just to catch him off his game.

It wasn't until the idiot overdosed that John realized just how close a friend he was to said idiot. Then there was that incident with an assassin. John had moved on reflex and killed the other man. Sherlock was won over, and that's when John was able to get the real stuff to Mycroft, the intel that would help bring down Moriarty.

The British Government warned John, that his little brother the sociopath was incapable of feeling or having friends. He warned John against believing himself an exception, perhaps the pompous bastard thought John was getting too close. The Agent hadn't thought so, but when he found out through Mycroft about Moriarty's plans to betray Sherlock, well that was enough to kick him into action.

He knew it would blow his cover but he didn't care. He tried to convince the younger Holmes to turn himself in, to work with MI6, the younger man had looked on John as if he had grown a second head. Then the cavalry showed up, and John was powerless.

He used what medical knowledge he could remember to bring Sherlock's doses down at the hospital, he was going to break him out, and if the man wasn't going to forgive him fine, John could live with that. He knew Sherlock wasn't like Moriarty, somewhere the young man jumped track, and he just needed to start over.

Now, here he was staring at two other versions of his friend, and apparently there were other John Watson's out there as well. He almost wondered if his alternate had been orphaned at five, had lost his whole family in a car accident, grew up in fosters homes, attended UNI, joined the army with the RAMC fell in love with a woman, Mary. Mary a primary school teacher, only to lose her and their first born to childbirth, while he was away fighting in Afghanistan. Then he was recruited by MI6, because operatives with no family were the best.

He listened to Holmes arguing with the other two, Agent Watson sized them up, the one in the suit, Sherringford they called him. He was soft, not used to handling a weapon. He was looking down his nose at Holmes, it made John want to walk over to him and punch him in the face.

Sherlock Holmes was an ex criminal, but those days were behind him, he'd come a long way, saved lives, worked with the local idiots to bring down the more troublesome criminals on the lower branches of Moriarty's organization. What had these assholes been up to?

Then the one in the Bellstaff coat, eccentric written all over his face, he had a cold look to him, John could read it in the man's eyes. He'd killed more than once and he would do it again. This man was dangerous, this one John would keep a closer eye on. Then those gray eyes were observing the Agent, he felt himself being picked apart layer by layer, it was haunting how similar this Sherlock was to John's version of Holmes.

"I don't think it wise to bring along Agent Watson." The Bellstaff stated his eyes not leaving John's. The Agent wondered if that was something the man deduced or if Holmes had introduced him as an agent. No matter, he wasn't letting his friend out of sight, especially with two sociopaths.

"I've already been over this Detective." Holmes spoke curtly, taking one of the weapons, John was done loading. "One does not leave-"

"Have you thought of the implications? It's no just that we'll going into a dangerous scenario where force will be needed. This I'm sure you and your friend here are well suited for. However what about the physiological impact?"

Holmes laughed at the Bellstaff Sherlock. He rolled his eyes "Do you think I will be reduced to tears at the sight of this other alternate in danger-"

"I have no doubts in my mind Mr. Holmes that you would not blink twice seeing the mirror of yourself meet an end. How would you feel if it were your friend there." He nodded his dark head at John, "Or your brother. And all that aside I wasn't even implying that it would be you who is most affected."

Holmes' eyes were narrowed and he John could feel his friends tension, John knew the ex criminal hated being questioned.

"If you insult my friend one more time-" he growled low. John rolled his eyes, such a temper.

"Holmes, it's fine." John handed the small hand gun to Sherringford then the Browning to Bellstaff. "Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, detective or whatever it is you do in your world. I am an MI6 trained operative. I do have some medical background, this might come in handy on this job. Why would you assume I-"

"I'm sorry Agent Watson, forgive me and my concern. Answer me this if you will. There are friends you've lost? Family?" The consulting detective placed the Browning in his coat were as Sherringford glared at the weapon he was holding. John held the other man's glare, he refused to look away, refused to think of his parents or of Mary.

Then Mr. Bellstaff coat cocked his eyebrow and his lips thinned into that all too familiar smug face, as if John just confirmed what he was thinking.

"John is of no concern to you Detective." Holmes snapped. "It's you who have come for our help. I suggest we get on with this instead of this excessive bickering. Agent Watson will not be compromised, this I can swear on."

"Is that why you left your precious Doctor at home?" John felt a pang of jealousy? Anger? Did Mary exists somewhere else, with this man's close friend? Did he not go into the army and instead stay home-was he there when she went into labor did they have a grown son? Did that John Watson have living parents, a sister? All guesses, it wasn't any use to dwell on these things, what passed has passed.

"No, Agent Watson. I've purposely not included the good Doctor in this adventure because he has worked a double shift, and the days before that, I've kept him up on a very important case. I would need someone sharp and ready. I would not risk his life when I can handle this case on my own. Doctor John H. Watson former Captain of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers is resting comfortably at home having his tea. Besides I think he's seen me die one too many a time to last us both a lifetime. He's an excellent marksmen, knowledgeable Doctor and my best friend. I'll have you not insult the man. "

"Fair enough." John shrugged. "Let's get this going. Holmes, stick close." Watson turned to his friend who was examining him with the same careful scrutiny that the other had.


	10. Chapter 10 Ghosts

Agent Watson stood unnoticed watching Moran 'inspect' his craft before flight. Just watching him made the Agent want to over and put a bullet in the man's shoulder. The dull ache he woke to every morning was still very much apparent in his daily exercises, after stressful missions his hand ached, the only saving grace was that it wasn't his dominate hand, he still had deadly aim with his right hand.

Holmes was busy entertaining idiots, John's mission was to get Moran bring him in for questioning, somewhere safe and far from the likelihood of distractions. The others of course had no clue what Watson and Holmes were up to, but a deal was a deal. Holmes just wanted to ensure no one especially the Mycroft of this world took that opportunity from them. So here Agent Watson was hiding easily behind several large shipment crates just outside the airplane hanger.

"Oi! Moran!" a blond woman went over to the sniper yanking the lit cigarette from him mouth. "No smoking on duty idiot! Especially around the fuel lines!"

" Dammit woman!"

"That's Agent Watson or sir to you." The blond woman who wore her hair in a high pony tail growled. "And I see you anywhere near my wife I'll disappear you out in the forest and even if they found you they'd need DNA to be sure! You have questions you ask Mycroft or Doctor Holmes."

"Right. Because the freak is here. Besides it was only curiosity, not my fault the woman is a bit jumpy." The blond man with the dark aviator glasses replied with a harsh growl. "Sir."

"Harry?" Agent John Watson whispered to himself, he couldn't believe it was her, she had her hands on her hips, he knew that stance almost too well. Except she had been fifteen, fifteen with pink streaks in her hair and an annoyed scowl.

"Listen you're already on fucking probation here. I don't know what strings you pulled to get assigned this mission but if even one hair falls out of line, I'll have you court marshaled and I'll be damned sure the charges stick this time. As for Doctor Holmes **_HE WILL_** be back! And he won't appreciate you snooping around the lab, and I don't appreciate you snooping around **_MY WIFE!_** We clear?"

She took a threatening step forward in her black military shined boots, Watson realized she was in uniform. Her words stuck with him, she was an Agent she worked for Mycroft and she was very much alive. As in not dead, as in never died in that car accident, he couldn't help but wonder if his parents were alive somewhere out there in this world as well.

"Everything alright here?" Watson stiffened recognizing the man in the military fatigues, the blond man was Watson's same height everything about him was just like Watson's, this had to be his alternate. It was damn startling to see how close the two resembled each other. The blond man put a hand on his sister's shoulder, she seemed to visually relax.

"Colonel." He acknowledged the other man stiffly without a salute.

"Captain." The blond sniper replied equally as cool. "I'll let you get back to your checks. Harry a word."

She reluctantly allowed herself to be led away, Watson moved closer remaining in the shadow s of the open space of the hanger. The Helicopter was sitting on a pad in front of the large open place; Watson found himself wanting to hear the exchange between the two siblings. To hear his sister talking again, to get a better glimpse of her face.

"Harry now's not the time." John sighed.

"John, he went into the Doctor's lab and was snooping I don't trust him. And how the hell was he assigned to this rescue? I've told Mycroft things aren't exactly right with the man. It's this gut-"

"Harry. Let's just get through this. We can look closer as soon as we get Sherlock back. That's the mission and for some reason that asshole there was deemed the best pilot and sniper and right now we need that. Please." John had a hand on his sister's shoulder.

"Alright fine, fine. But if he looks at Clara-"

"I'll make him eat his teeth myself." John smiled and his sister nodded bringing her hands up in surrender.

"Don't worry little brother with Team Watson on the case we'll get our annoying mad scientist back all in one piece. "

Watson watched the two with a burning ache in his chest almost like the one in his shoulder but deeper and sharper.

The sound of the alternate's phone broke up the little scene between the two siblings. "It's Mary. I'll-"

"Answer it little brother and tell her I said hello! And give Hamish and Lilly a squeeze from their favorite auntie."

John laughed and the blond woman walked away leaving John on the phone. Watson neared wishing badly to hear this conversation, his heart pounding in his chest so hard he had to place his had there for fear it would explode from his body.

"Mary love-" Watson listened to the way this man's voice changed, the way his face lost all expression except a bright smile, even his eyes were softer "Yes. No just another day in the office. We haven't got him back yet. I cant really talk right-yes Mary. Put him on." There was a pause. "Hamish Mycroft Watson-no son there is no excuse for using that word. I don't care if it just slipped out. It's only football-not life and death. You better be. I love you too son now be sure to help your mother with Lilly, and no video games or telly until I get home. I should be home later tonight-"

Watson turned away from the conversation he had to get away, get back to what he was ordered to do. He couldn't allow himself to think not about any of this, about what could have been and what will never be.

"John?" Sherlock's voice broke through his thoughts and John jumped almost knocking the heavy crates back.

"Holy shit! Holmes you almost gave me a heart attack.

"Sorry. That wasn't my intention." The cool gray eyes were washing over Watson, reading him like a book. For the first time in a long time Watson hated his friends ability.

"Any luck with Mr. British Government?"

" I left before he made a decision we both know Mycroft, he was more concerned with the threat of national security this _'portal'_ posed."

"Doesn't sound like your brother. The Mycroft I know would use such a device if it meant saving his brother-"

"Hardly Watson. My brother tried to lock me away in a mad house remember?"

"To save you from yourself and Moriarty. His intentions were-"

"No John. I will not believe otherwise. I've known my brother-"

Watson flinched hearing his first name, Holmes usually just called him Watson. The way he said _John _there was a harder edge to it.

"What the hell is he doing?" Watson was distracted by Moran now, without thinking he rushed out from behind the crates. "Moran you bastard!" Watson tackled the other man before he could cut a hole in the fuel line.

The Colonel was taken by surprise he tried to fight off the smaller man but found himself flat on his back a heavy boot to his neck and a gun to his forehead.

"Freak? How the hell?" Moran's eyes were wide now Holmes smiled thinly.

"We know everything Moran-"

"Shit! Moriarty's going to kill me! How did you know I was part of the plan? How did you get back?" he chocked out.

"Stand down!" Harry commanded "I said stand down dammit. I don't care who you look like I'll shoot you all the same!"

Holmes glared at the blond woman holding her browning directed at John. "Mycroft says we get a go first then you." Holmes could see the smug looking British Government standing with his usual annoyed expression, clutching an umbrella.

"He was cutting the fuel lines! Traitor!" John pushed down with his boot causing the other man to gasp and squirm. Then just as easily he released the pressure and lowered his weapon, two agents in dark suits came forward and drug the nearly unconscious Colonel away.

"A word Mr. Watson And Mr. Holmes." Mycroft turned on his heels "Somewhere more private. Harriett I expect you to debrief your brother on just the necessary details."

"Yes. Sir." The woman in military fatigues shot a curious glance in Holmes and Watson's direction.

The ex consulting criminal caught the fleeting emotions, just a blink an ordinary person would have just seen the simple twitch of muscle around the eyes and mouth but Sherlock read something else. He deduced pages of data and stored it away, wondering why he had a feeling of guilt.

"John." He paused just outside of the older Holmes's office. "I apologize."

"What the hell are you talking about Holmes?" Watson tensed glancing at the open door, the two spoke low enough that those standing and waiting inside couldn't hear.

"If you two gentleman are done?" Sherrinford called from inside the room.

"I really would like to shoot him." Watson murmured and Holmes only grinned, the conversation forgotten.


	11. Chapter 11 Back to the Start

Doctor Holmes heard the sound of gunfire nearing, the lights flickered and dimmed, there was yelling into radios but Doctor Holmes ignored it all. He knew how this scene would play out, somewhere out there John had been shot, he would tell Harry to go forward and she would burst through those doors, take out the three thugs easily.

Perfect marksmanship ran strong in the Watson family; John's father had been in the army also known as a crack shot.

Somewhere out there John was bleeding and the fool wouldn't have said a word or betrayed the pain to his sister. He would simply clear the corridor so Harry and Sherlock would have a better chance at escape.

Stupid and loyal John Watson. Brave, always so brave and today he'd make the ultimate sacrifice, proving once more he was a better friend than Sherlock.

Sherlock closed his eyes when the man holding him pulled him from the chair roughly binding his hands. The door burst open, and Sherlock waited, three shots no return fire. No, Harry wouldn't' have given them the chance, and now the scientist was falling, falling and hitting the ground landing on a dead body.

"Sherlock!" An urgent male voice.

"Get him up, we may have taken them by surprise but they're catching on." Another similar voice but from the doorway.

"Sherlock. Those bastards! I'll hunt them down I swear if-"

Gray eyes opened blinking not understanding this dream completely, the anxious face of his dearest friend came into view slowly.

"John?" Sherlock wanted to curse this dream, it must be the dehydration, perhaps the whole idea of travel was a dream. Then the other man in the door way stepped in.

Sherlock flinched, he was seeing double, the other man grinned down at him.

"He looks a bit dehydrated, let me look him over." Sherlock looked to his John, the eyes were cold and he'd moved protectively over Doctor Holmes.

"I'm fine." Sherlock swallowed, and tried to sit up, his abdomen ached and he hissed.

"Stubborn the both of you." The other John growled, crouching down he ran a quick hand over Sherlock's ribs.

"Broken. Nothing else, a bit of a bump on the head. Like I said dehydrated and malnourished."

"Come on then." His John helped him stand, waving off the other man's offer of help. "Just get to point Watson and we'll be right behind you."

"John!" Sherlock finally managed the words. "John are you hurt? How are you here? Where's Harry?"

"No worries Sherlock. I'm fine. Harry's waiting for us, she's bringing the Helicopter, had a bit of a run in with a traitor nothing we couldn't handle. Would have been here sooner but Mycroft for all his cameras and intelligence had a bloody hell of a time finding you. I'm sorry mate. Sorry. It should have never-"

"No, no. I'm fine." Sherlock winced as walking caused him pain in his side, and his legs felt weak. "Am I dreaming?"

"You won't believe the story I have for you. I thought I was dreaming, but apparently we aren't."

Sherlock held to his friend's words, he allowed them to wrap around him, the sound of John's voice over the sound of gunfire and explosions was a concerto to his ears. He'd almost forgotten what it sounded like to hear John's laughter, forgotten how the lines around John's eyes crinkled when he smiled and just how much he missed the man. This man, no others could substitute it was a stupid notion to try.

All those others would have been haunted in their own ways, John this John wasn't anything but himself.

"John, I was looking for you. I had to tell you-" Now it was John's turn to look confused as he covered his friends body with his own, ducking down, the military man easily dispatch the two men who had appeared from nowhere.

"Come on!" the other John motioned from a few feet ahead, Sherlock could hear a helicopter somewhere just outside.

"Sherlock you aren't well. I'll get you home. You'll be alright. You can tell me whatever you want once we're back at the base. Yeah."

"No, no I have to tell you now. Tell you-" The two had made it out into the light of day, Sherlock squinted against the true light, having been subjected to the dim lights of his cell for weeks. It was then John half drug half carried Sherlock to the helicopter, Harry was smiling from the pilot's seat, the other John was engaged in trading fire with a few assailants across the open courtyard hiding behind a stone pillar.

John got Sherlock into the back, and went to pull himself in, yelling for the other man to hurry. When his eyes went wide and he nearly fell back, except Sherlock had grabbed his friend by the front of his vest pulling him forward the heavier man landed with a thud on top of his already weak friend.

"Go!" The other John was jumping in firing his heavy AK, when they were safety in the air he turned around to see Sherlock pushing his friend onto his back.

"He's shot!" The scientist was frantic. "John! Not again. No."

"What's going on?" Harriet yelled from over her shoulder.

"Just fly this damn thing!" The other John ordered tossing his gun aside, he pulled open Sherlock's friend's jacket, then removed the vest. Blood was pooling out from the shoulder wound. John hissed and groaned.

"He'll be alright. We are going to the base they have the medical facilities-" The other John's expression was pinched and he placed Sherlock's hand over the wound. "Pressure! Just keep pressure on it! We aren't far! We'll get him help, do you understand me? No one will die here." Sherlock nodded despite his fear, and with the strength he could muster the man pushed down on the wound.

"John!" The other John growled leaning in, he whispered something into John's ear causing the ex army Captain and Agent to open his eyes wide.

Sherlock wondered what the man said, but the other John was busy hunting for the first aid kit.

"Keep him awake as long as possible!" The other John ordered and Sherlock nodded stiffly, willing the tears to stop pooling in his eyes, willing himself to be strong.

"John. I wanted to tell you-tell you I'm sorry for being such a selfish friend." The other John started to patch the wound the best he could, and at the same time keeping pressure on the shoulder.

"Not-not self-" John grunted trying to breath in.

"Yes I am. The demands I've always made on your time, those experiments that went horribly wrong in UNI."

This caused the injured man to laugh. "Fun-all fun." He managed through clenched teeth.

"Then you met Mary and I thought I'd lost you. Remember I refused to talk to you for months after you moved in with her, until she showed up at my laboratory and refused to leave. She was nine months along and I realized I was missing out on your life. Remember when she had Hamish? That day was one I'll never forget the woman almost gave Mycroft's people a heart attack. We nearly lost her and Hamish-"

"Good Doct-ors. Mycroft-"

"Yes. Mycroft my ever so pushy brother had the best man flown in from Sweden, I don't know what threat he gave that pompous Doctor but he looked absolutely terrified. That was one time I was very glad to have such an overbearing older brother, because eight hours later Mary and Hamish were just fine."

"Yes-beautiful Mary." John's hand was holding Sherlock's wrist. "Don't let them be alone. Take, take care of my family Sherlock." John's voice sounded weaker, and more forced.

"No, I'm shit at that. They will fall apart without you. I'll fall apart without you." The scientist half sobbed. "I had to find you, John and there is no one to replace you. I've been running in circles John looking for you."

"That's my line." John managed through labored breaths. "This is hard-"

"John? John are you alright?"

"Yes." The other man smiled and his eyes fluttered closed and his body went limp.

"No!" Sherlock growled angrily still keeping his hand on his friends shoulder. "NO!" it was the nightmare all over again.

The other John ordered the shocked younger man to keep pressure on the wound as he started CPR.

The helicopter finally landed and a medical team rushed in, pulling Sherlock away. This was the beginning and the end, and the scientist knew he wouldn't be building that machine again.

He could hear Harriett yelling at someone, turning his head the other John was holding her back, she'd tried to follow her John into surgery, Sherlock was on a stretcher he couldn't remember how he got on one, they were moving him away from John's body. The best friend and agent disappeared behind metal doors as would Sherlock very soon but not the same ones different, and he didn't try to hold back the darkness inching up to take him.

**_~0~_**

"Now that's been resolved John and I would like a word with Moran." The ex consulting criminal turned to the alternate version of his brother. The room had been watching the cctv as the scene unfolded.

"Interesting. Just how cold you are Sherlock." Mycroft gave a curt smile.

"Yes, well sentiment isn't one of my flaws. Now if you'll excuse me." The man took his leave he wanted nothing more than to retrieve his own John Watson, to get the information he wanted and to clear out before John wished to stay. Or worse was asked to stay.

He found his friend speaking to a distraught Harriett Watson, and it was startling to see the family resemblance. This woman, obviously an Agent had her head between her legs trying to take deep breaths, and Watson was rubbing her back crouching down whispering something to her. This caused her to calm visibly but she didn't speak.

Then Watson looked up seeing Holmes, he said one more thing to her and she glared across at Sherlock, and nodded. Watson left her in front of the base's infirmary doors.

"Holmes-" Watson started to speak but the ex criminal was taking his arm.

"You're hurt?"

"It was a graze."

"Has anyone seen to it?" mass amounts of information pertaining to infection and resulting in death flashed through his mind palace.

"I did, I'm the one that bandaged it. It's fine. I assume we have the ok to speak to our prisoner?" Holmes nodded. "We'll lead the way, I need to resolve some tension."


	12. Chapter 12 WOULD HAVE, COULD HAVE

_**A/N: SORRY FOR THE DELAY SOOOOO HERES AN UPDATE ANOTHER WILL FOLLOW SHORTLY PROMISE :)  
**_

* * *

_**CHAPTER 12 WOULD HAVE, COULD HAVE**_

Watson was washing his blood stained hands, his friend the ex criminal watching him the whole time.

"Holmes might as well take a picture if you you're gonna just stare."

"John."

"Sherlock?" Watson dried his hands on a clean towel.

"I wanted to apologize. I once again did not observe."

"What the hell are you going on about again?"

"That night, the one you were shot. The Doctor version of me had come to offer you a new life John. This life, where you would have a sister and a family and even if you had not been shot I fear I would not have let you go. And once again I've selfishly brought you along without any thought to how you would feel. I read your file. I know you lost your family in a car accident, I've never asked you about your wife but I've always known this bit of information about you. Now I've put you in a position where-"

The Ex Criminal didn't meet the probing blue eyes of his only friend. "Sherlock if the man had offered me this life I would not have taken it. Even if I never knew you, I would never accept it. Idiot. This isn't my life. If I'd of returned here to take that man's place it would never have worked out. I would be a stranger to that man's wife and that man's children. Mary died long ago and she took the man I once was with her. There can never be another Mary-" John shrugged,

"She had a beautiful smile Holmes. Did I ever tell you that? She had this way about her that could calm the stormiest of weather, you'd of loved her. She had ceaseless patience and would have loved to tease you about your logic and your ideas on sentiment. But if she would have lived Sherlock I wouldn't have taken another tour, I would have become someone else and never would have crossed your path. Who knows you and Moriarty could have accidentally killed me in another life.(On purpose) I can't dwell on what might have been Sherlock, I can only consider what is now.

The things that haunt me have never even been experienced by my alternate. Besides you are my friend Sherlock Holmes Consulting Detective ex consulting criminal. I would be even more of a stranger to that Holmes. No, I'm right where I need to be. That said we should be getting home. These other arseholes are starting to annoy me, don't know if I can hold back the itch to shoot one of them."

Satisfied with Watson's answer Holmes smiled easily. "Yes, we should go. I miss Mycroft. This one is way too sentimental and entirely too soft for my liking."

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd ever say those words."

"If you tell him I'll deny it and drug your tea with hallucinogens again. And I wont stop you from running out into the street naked like I did last time."  
"You are a bastard! I knew that was you!" Watson marched off. "Accident my ass!"

"John it was an experiment, I knew it was in the sugar. I just needed to narrow it now down." Holmes hurried to catch up to his friend.

"Before we go I really should say goodbye." Watson sighed, "It's weird meeting yourself. Odd knowing there is an endless amount of mes out there." Holmes didn't reply he only continued to look thoughtful.

"I'll just be a moment." Watson approached the infirmary, his alternate should be out of surgery by now.

He didn't see Harry in the hall and he entered the medical area, there were several empty beds and then in the farthest corner here was a curtain drawn around one bed. John approached; he entered without hesitation glancing at the monitors.

Sitting beside his unconscious friend was Doctor Holmes, an IV in his arm, he was dressed in a hospital gown. He didn't look up when he spoke. "I owe you a thank you and more. I can't ever pay you back for what you've done today." The man sounded completely exhausted his voice hoarse and Watson examined the man for any resemblance other than the obvious physical ones to his Holmes.

"All in a day's work. Beside it makes us even."

"Even? How?" The doctor looked up in confusion.

"You don't know it but that night you came to make your offer. It saved my life. You saved Holmes from making a bad decision."

The Doctor shook his head, "No, I'm certain he would have figured it out soon enough. We Holmes' are stubborn and sometimes slow when it comes to trust, it's an illogical idea. Trust. Once you've earned it-"

"I know. I know." Watson smiled easily. "Um, anyway I've come to say goodbye. And well good luck. I think we've got the information we need to bring down Moriarty in our world. So-"

"When we were on the helicopter what did you say to him? You said something and it seemed to bring him right to life. What-what was it?"

Watson glanced at the monitor and then down at the unconscious John Watson, the man looked pale and small under all his bandages, several tubes were keeping the wound drained and there was an oxygen mask over the blond's face. It was haunting to see himself like this, knowing a few years ago he had a similar injury.

Watson took a deep breath, smiling " I said-You know who I am. I've see you die and it's not here in the middle of nowhere. It wont be a bullet, it will be an arm chair and old age."

Doctor Holmes laughed to himself, his eyes glassy he blinked the tears back, imagining his friend in old age.

**_~o~_**

Sherlock was standing outside the infirmary locked in a glaring contest with Watson's sister, or not Watson's sister. The woman wouldn't budge from her spot she only continued to glare.

"Ready?" His friend sighed the ex criminal nodded he watched curiously as Watson embraced the blond stranger.

When they made their way back to the group of Holmes', the dark haired man asked his friend "What did you say to calm her down earlier?"

"Just some brotherly advice. Come along Holmes I need a drink."


	13. Chapter 13 TO PART

_**CHAPTER 13. TO PART**_

Sherrinford Holmes glanced around the room where his alternate was sitting near a hospital cot, the man should be resting. Then again this was all déjà vu.

"So which are you then?" the doctor never turned from his friend's face.

"I'm the one you never officially met, but somehow you managed to not only save my life but that of my best friend." Sherrinford neared the bed, he glanced over the monitors, indeed this was all too haunting. "Funny how things work out. My John was shot as well by Moran, nearly killed him. Then just recently he took another bullet for me. It's impossible I think for John Watson in any universe to be anything but self sacrificing it's almost infuriating. This is what prompted me to come. I thought I would return the favor."

"Even though I would have taken your friend with me, taken him before you would have ever known him." Doctor Holmes sounded defeated and exhausted his shoulders slumped.

"Yes." Sherrinford replied easily, "Yes. Even though that was your goal. I realized after Mycroft explained what your intentions had been, I realized that I would have done the same. Sentiment isn't advantageous-"

"Well in this instance I would think you were wrong." Doctor Holmes cut his alternate off.

The two men remained in silence gray eyes watching the monitors there was not a goodbye said between them just a mutual thank you.

Sherrinford wanted to return home more than ever, today had proven most exhausting.

He gave a quick nod to John's sister, she was eying him suspiciously, and he realized she may think that at any moment one of the others or even himself were here to whisk John away.

No, Sherrinford could never find a replacement John. His John wasn't so cold as the ex consulting criminals Watson, and perhaps not as soft as his Bellstaff wearing counterpart's. Sherrinford was happy with the one he got, in his opinion his John was the best. The idea of John working for Mycroft, laughable and horrifying. He shook his head straightening his suit jacket, it was indeed time to go home.

Bellstaff Sherlock shot an irritable glare at Harry Watson and Sherrinford could deduce right away there was more to that then a simple distrust. He wondered if in another time line Harriette Watson was something else, perhaps more of a obligation than a loving sister. He had never asked John about family and always assumed his friend was an only child. Did John have a sister? A family somewhere? He deduced all he needed about John, his phone it was a gift from a relative Sherlock had said brother and John had never corrected him. But if that were true than where was John's sibling? Why weren't they apart of the ex soldier's life?

Even a man like Mycroft appreciated family and it was hard to believe John would easily sever ties with his own unless it wasn't his choice. Interesting he would definitely have to ask.

Mycroft had a file on John perhaps he would have answers, of course he would have answers. The Consulting Detective rolled his eyes, and as tempting as it was he knew he wouldn't be asking Mycroft for anything anytime soon.

He did however wish to return home to his friend and his own brother, this place was colder and less appealing than home. He hoped Mrs. Hudson would have some fresh biscuits waiting for him.

**_~0~_**

Sherlock glared at Harry as he entered into the hospital room, he wished to say his goodbyes. Well mostly he was intrigued by his counterparts relationship with this version of John Watson. An agent, working for Mycroft, it was disgusting almost horrifying. So much so Sherlock wished to return home instantly and insist on defacing the cctv camera's around 221B. He would have John join in just for good measure.

He found himself or rather the other version of himself, the weaker more sentimental version holding the unconscious blonds hand. Sherlock had yet to experience this, it was always the other way around for him. John, his blogger would be loyal sitting beside his hospital bed. His friend would always be there when Sherlock awoke, it was something the consulting detective had become accustomed to.

It was something he hadn't realized he needed or would miss until he spent the three years away from John his only friend. He wondered if this is what he would have become had he met John at UNI.

"It's very apparent you have a Moriarty problem." Sherlock sighed nearing the hospital cot, he allowed himself to glance at the monitors but never the man lying in the bed.

"Mycroft will sort it. It seems my research has attracted some attention." The scientist sighed running a hand through his unruly hair.

Sherlock scoffed at the idea of allowing Mycroft free rein in any of his problems but then again this version of himself was softer and somehow younger.

"You don't believe Mycroft can-"

"Oh, I bet he will. It's just from past experience allowing him and Moriarty in the same room ended badly for me. It cost me three years of my life and nearly cost me a valuable friendship." This caught the other man's attention immediately, he shook his head.

"I'll figure it out. This wont happen again. I'll be on better guard and as for the Moriarty and his organization they wont be allowed to spread."

Sherlock read determination in his counterparts cool eyes, the man was looking at him now really looking. "I have faith in my brother's ability and my own."

"Good because when Moriarty came after me it was through my family." Sherlock motioned towards John without looking up.

"Is that why you neglected to bring him on this adventure?" The scientist smiled sadly turning back to his sleeping friend.

"Yes. That and I've asked too much of him already over the years. I figured I could repay this debt to you on my own. I've given Mycroft all the information I've collected over the years on Moriarty. I hope it proves useful."

And with that said Sherlock turned around to take his leave. All this sentiment was making his stomach ache he wished for some warm tea and perhaps he could nick some fresh biscuits from Mrs. Hudson's kitchen. He if he asked he knew that John would make him tea, and even without asking the Doctor would sit with him. Sherlock found himself wanting to be in the quiet of 221B with nothing but the sound of his blogger tapping at his keys and every once and a while trying to pull the genius into a conversation.

He left the two injured men behind and swept from the room.

**_~0~_**

John stood up and greeted his roommate as soon as he entered the flat.

"Sherlock there you are, I've been trying to call you for ages. Where have you been? We have a client."

Sherlock frowned he had hoped or a quiet evening, he removed his scarf and coat.

Registering there being another individual in the flat, a female individual from the tell tale scent of perfume.

"Mrs. Morston this is Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock this is Mrs. Mary Morston."

"Oh, please it's actually Ms. And Call me Mary." The blond woman smiled gently her eyes never leaving the good doctor's face. Sherlock took a step back and felt as if he were intruding on something, quickly shaking this feeling off.

"Tea John."

"Already made." John replied retrieving a cup for his dark haired friend.

"So Mary, tell me about the case." Sherlock sighed as John took out a note pad as if to take notes but the detective could see his friend was smitten and this woman was equally taken in by John's easy going personality. Of course she would be only a stupid woman would find such a man unworthy of their affection.

And John had brought some stupid women back to the flat, the detective reflected irritably. However this woman might prove more difficult to scare off and even more so intriguing Sherlock didn't seem to do so. Recalling how happy John's counterpart had been in the wedding video Sherlock had been shown.

Still he would keep an eye on this relationship, couldn't have his blogger taken advantage of her hurt in some way. Women were heartless creatures by nature, well at least in the little experience Sherlock had with them, namely one Irene Adler.

**_~0~_**

Doctor Holmes must have drifted off at some point because he awoke to a hand squeezing his own.

"John!" Sherlock shot straight up seeing the glassy stare of his friend fighting to stay conscious. "John, don't talk I'll call a nurse!"

Doctor Holmes kept his hand in his friends and with his free one pressed the call button.

Several doctor's and nurses rushed in, they worked around the scientist who kept his eyes on his friends. The blond agent scowled and winced but said nothing.

Sherlock snapped at the doctors and nurses "Do be careful the man was shot." He watched as his friend was given more pain meds and listened to the doctor explain the situation.

The medical team adjusted the agents bed and left the room shortly after, declaring the good soldier on the way to recovery. Someone had hung another bag of blood on the IV stand, and Sherlock adjusted the oxygen cannula around his friend's ears.

"I'm sure you're going to explain this all to me sometime?" the agent's voice was hoarse.

"When you are well again. But until then Mycroft has Mary and the kids on their way, he had a private car and plane ready for them. They should be here in a few hours. So I suggest you embrace the sweet silence while you can and rest."

"You alright?"

"Better off than you." Dr. Holmes huffed squeezing his friends hand.  
"My sister told me this bloody mad story about how you inventing a time machine. Now I think I was dreaming. Imagine you the new Doctor Who. " John giggled then winced. "If anyone could do it I guess it would be you."

"Rest John." Sherlock urged but his friend only licked his dry lips and blinked tiredly at him.

"You know when I found you in that bathroom during UNI, I knew you were going to be trouble."

"And I knew you would be hard to get rid of." Both men grinned and the blond allowed his eyes to close. "I'll be right here when you wake up John. Just sleep."

The other man sighed, the pain medication carrying him off into a warm dream. One where he was surrounded by his family, and at home in a comfortable arm chair listening to his friend explain some new scientific theory. Mary would be cooking in the kitchen and the children would be sitting on the couch practically in the mad scientist's lap. And of course Sherlock wouldn't mind, he liked the audience he liked this place this was home.

**_THE END_**


End file.
